Old Ice Cream Freezer Advertisement

15-year-old Helena wrote a hundred years ago today:

Sunday, January 22, 1911. Went to Sunday school and church this morning. Made ice cream. That is my sister made it and I assisted. I got the ice. Besse and Curt came out this evening. Just when Ruth and I were having a little spat all to ourselves.

ice.cream.freezer.1 — Advertisement in the July 1910 issue of National Food Magazine.

Her middle-aged grand-daughter’s comments 100 years later:

Grandma’s oldest sister Besse was married to Curt Hester, a butcher in Watsontown. My father can remember Curt and Besse working in the butcher shop

Today we think of ice cream as a warm weather food—but I guess in the days before refrigeration that maybe it was a cold weather food. It would have been easier to get the ice needed to make ice cream during the winter months.

I wonder what Grandma and her sister Ruth had a ‘spat’ was about. Maybe Grandma wanted to make the ice cream rather than assist .

Where did Grandma get the ice? Warrior Run Creek flows near the house, so maybe she gathered frozen chunks that were near the creek bank. . . or maybe there was ice on the cattle watering troughs . . . or maybe had they set pans and buckets filled with water out to freeze the previous day . . .

No Smallpox–Just Reading, Moping, and Doing Nothing

15-year-old Helena wrote a hundred years ago today:

Saturday, January 21, 1911. Spent most of the day in reading and moping around doing nothing. Mother is reading tonight, while I make my entry, but she doesn’t know what I’m writing, for she has her back turned.

Local Front Page News Exactly 100 Years Ago Today:

More Smallpox: Three More Cases Have Broken Out In Montour County

Two at Mausdale and One at Washingtonville: All Are Traced to Lumber Camp

Milton Evening Standard, January 21, 1911

Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:

When I dug into the old 1911 Milton Evening Standard microfilms at the Milton Public Library, I was shocked to discover that smallpox still occurred in central Pennsylvania a hundred years ago. This means that there was smallpox less than fifty years before my birth. I had thought that the smallpox vaccine had wiped the disease out much earlier. But, even though the victims lived only 15-20 miles from Grandma’s home, it apparently was a world away from Grandma’s concerns when she wrote this diary entry. (Sometimes the slower pace of 1911 sounds wonderful, but there have been some very positive changes in the last 100 years!!)

Grandma probably wrote this entry sitting in a house illuminated with at least two gas lanterns—since it appears that she and her mother weren’t sitting close together. Maybe Grandma was huddled over the table in the kitchen but could see her mother sitting in the living room through a doorway. Why did she mention that she won’t want her mother to know what she is writing? There’s nothing very earth-shaking here—except maybe yesterday’s spelling fiasco.

How Do You Spell ‘Man’?

15-year-old Helena wrote a hundred years ago today:

Friday, January 20, 1911: Brought home some maps I drew at school last year. They were very excellent specimen’s of drawing, so I thought it would be worthwhile to save them and exhibit them to my friends if I ever have an reason to. Perhaps I shall not. Missed the word (man) in spelling. Now looked surprised, anyone else might have missed it too under the same circumstances.

Her middle-aged grand-daughter’s comments 100 years later:

Recent Photo of McEwensville High School

It was just one of those days with a high point and a low spot. Today’s five sentence diary entry gives lots of hints about Grandma:

She’s proud of her drawing ability (or at least her map-making skills).
She wants to share her successes with friends, but seems to hold back and feel uncertain about how they’ll react. Grandma so wants affirmation that the maps are good but fears that maybe her friends wouldn’t think the maps were as cool as she thinks they are—and then she’d feel bad.
And, I guess she wasn’t much of a speller. (That trait seems to have carried down to my generation–though I can definitely spell man.) Was there a spelling bee?—Maybe it was supposed to be a fun way to end the week on Friday afternoon. Did Grandma really mean that she misspelled the word “man”? What were the circumstances? Was she horsing around with friends instead of paying attention? . . . Daydreaming? Did she feel humiliated when the class laughed? . . . or did she enjoy the attention?

A Birthday Tradition

15-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:

Thursday, January 19, 1911: Pulled Miss Muffly’s ears first thing this morning, whether she liked it or not. Bout all I can do to fish up enough things to knock down. My life has reached an uneventful state or period with all its calm ripples. I almost forgot, I got a new pair of rubbers today which I needed very bad.

Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:

I’m guessing that Miss Muffly refers to Grandma’s sister Ruth. And, that January 19 was Ruth’s birthday. According to the 1900 Ruth was born in January 1892, so this must have been her 19th birthday. Grandma probably woke Ruth by pulling her ears.

When I was a child my parents told me that in the old days people used to pull the birthday person’s ear lobes one time for each year, but that I shouldn’t pull ears since it might damage the person’s hearing (which, of course, gave me the idea that it might be fun to pull ears—but that is another story).

1911 Books That Have Stood the Test of Time

15-year-old Helena wrote a hundred years ago today:

Wednesday, January 18, 1911: Got a book out of the library at school today, which I’ll have to manage to read pretty soon, as soon as I get time.

Her middle-aged grand-daughter’s comments 100 years later:

Tuesday, January 18, 2010: Goodreads lists 180 books published in 1911 that are still in print. These probably were not the most popular books at the time, but rather they are the books that have endured –and whose message apparently continues to resonate a hundred years later.

Fourteen books on the list that I recognized the title or author of are listed below.

1. Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie (Barrie published the children’s story in 1911–he’d written the play a few years earlier.)

All children, except one, grow up.

First line of Peter Pan

2. Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton

3. Riders of the Purple Sage by Zane Grey

4. My First Summer in the Sierra by John Muir

5. The Door in the Wall by H.G. Wells

6. The Scarlet Plague by Jack London

7. Under Western Eyes by Joseph Conrad

8. Jennie Gerhardt by Theodore Dreiser

9. The Quest of the Golden Fleece by W.E.B. DuBois

10. The Sea Fairies by L. Frank Baum

11.The Montessori Method by Marie Montessori

12. Roget International Thesaurus by Peter Mark Roget

13. The Principles of Scientific Management by Frederick Taylor

14. The Official Handbook for Boys by The Boys Scouts of America

The books cover the gamut, but they give an indication of some of the key issues of 1911–social norms (Wharton), civil rights (Dubois), good management (Taylor’s famous–or perhaps infamous–time-motion studies measured how long it took factory workers to complete various tasks with the goal of increasing efficiency), early childhood education (Montessori), revolutionary movements (Conrad), and the environment (Muir). It’s amazing how some of the issues haven’t really changed much in 100 years–while in other cases the whole paradigm has shifted.

Winter Activities

15-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today

Tuesday, January 17, 1911. Miss Stout was over this evening, wanted me to go skating or else sliding with her down on the creek with the rest of the gang. I choose to stay at home, and there I remained, and here I am at the present time.

News From Exactly 100 Years Ago Today

Woodrow Wilson was inaugurated as governor of New Jersey on January 17, 1911. Prior to becoming governor he was the president of Princeton University. He was elected president of the United States less than two years later in November 1913.

Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later

Monday, January 17, 2010. It must have gotten colder and snowed since the entry three days ago when the diary reported that it was raining. Warrior Run Creek flows through the edge of the Muffly farm. I’m surprised that the creek froze enough to skate on. Maybe they somehow flooded nearby land to create a homemade skating rink.

Recent photo of Warrior Run Creek (though taken at a different time of year). The old Muffly barn is in the background.

Grandma’s friend, Carrie Stout, lived on a farm about half way between McEwensville and the Muffly farm. (See Setting page for map and photo.)

Soon I’ll Turn Into A Recluse

15-year-old Helena wrote a hundred years ago today:

Monday, January 16, 1911: How the days do fly, half-a month gone already. Can hardly realize it, but I have to. I just do wish something would occur to break the same old terrible routine of mine. But it’s always ditto. I’ll soon turn into a recluse, or perhaps something worse, if something won’t happen.

Her middle-aged grand-daughter’s reflection 100 years later.

January 16, 2010. Hmm . . . I wonder if Grandma often said throughout her life that she might become a recluse?

When I’ve asked people who knew Grandma what they remember, several said that she became somewhat reclusive in her later years. They even used those exact words.

Is this entry a prediction of the future? . . . or did Grandma’s concerns lead people to draw that conclusion? . . . Maybe it was a little of both.

My memory is that Grandma was very elderly—but I don’t think of her as a recluse. She lived in a little brick bungalow on a rural road. She didn’t know how to drive, and was dependent on relatives for transportation.

After my grandfather died my uncle always brought Grandma to church. And, after church and Sunday school, our family always took her home. We often took her to McDonald’s for lunch before taking her home .

Back then the closest McDonald’s was in Montoursville—about 20 miles from McEwensville—so it was a nice Sunday drive. Everyone in our neck of the woods was thrilled that city restaurants were finally coming to rural Pennsylvania—and felt incredibly cool and urbane to be eating at McDonalds.

Yikes—how could we have been brainwashed by the media enough to believe that French fries and hamburgers were better than the home-produced foods we normally ate? (I can’t believe that my memory is right—but I think you could buy a hamburger for 25 cents in the mid-1960s). But at least we considered McDonald’s food to be a Sunday treat—not something to wolf down on a regular basis. In any case, it was a nice outing with Grandma.

Some of my strongest memories of Grandma are of those Sundays–and of her, my brother, and me squeezed into the back seat of my parent’s Dodge Monaco. Some weeks Grandma was very quiet and just endured my brother’s and my pushes and shoves —but other weeks she talked about making pickles . . . or gardening . . . or whatever.